andrew bird's one-man orchestra of the imagination

Well, there's lots to talk about, but I think I'm just going to play to start off.

(Music)

When I wake up

in the morning

I pour the coffee

I read the paper

And then I slowly

and so softly

do the dishes

So feed the fishes

You sing me happy birthday

Like it's gonna be

your last day

here on Earth

(Applause)

All right. So, I wanted to do something special today. I want to debut a new song that I've been working on in the last five or six months. And there's few things more thrilling than playing a song for the first time in front of an audience, especially when it's half-finished. (Laughter) I'm kind of hoping some conversations here might help me finish it. Because it gets into all sorts of crazy realms. And so this is basically a song about loops, but not the kind of loops that I make up here. They're feedback loops. And in the audio world that's when the microphone gets too close to its sound source, and then it gets in this self-destructive loop that creates a very unpleasant sound. And I'm going to demonstrate for you. (Laughter) I'm not going to hurt you. Don't worry.

This is a loop, feedback loop

This is a loop, feedback loop

This is a loop, feedback loop

This is a loop, feedback loop

This is a loop, feedback loop

This is a loop, feedback loop

♫ This is a—(Feedback)

All right. I don't know if that was necessary to demonstrate—(Laughter)—but my point is it's the sound of self-destruction.

And I've been thinking about how that applies across a whole spectrum of realms, from, say, the ecological, okay. There seems to be a rule in nature that if you get too close to where you came from, it gets ugly. So like, you can't feed cows their own brains or you get mad cow disease, and inbreeding and incest and, let's see, what's the other one? Biological—there's autoimmune diseases, where the body attacks itself a little too overzealously and destroys the host, or the person. And then—okay, this is where we get to the song—kind of bridges the gap to the emotional.

Because although I've used scientific terms in songs, it's very difficult sometimes to make them lyrical. And there's some things you just don't need to have in songs. So I'm trying to bridge this gap between this idea and this melody. And so, I don't know if you've ever had this, but when I close my eyes sometimes and try to sleep, I can't stop thinking about my own eyes. And it's like your eyes start straining to see themselves. That's what it feels like to me. It's not pleasant. I'm sorry if I put that idea in your head. (Laughter) It's impossible, of course, for your eyes to see themselves, but they seem to be trying. So that's getting a little more closer to a personal experience. Or ears being able to hear themselves—it's just impossible. That's the thing. So, I've been working on this song that mentions these things and then also imagines a person who's been so successful at defending themselves from heartbreak that they're left to do the deed themselves, if that's possible. And that's what the song is asking. All right. It doesn't have a name yet.

(Music)

Go ahead and congratulate yourself

Give yourself a hand, the hand is your hand

And the eye that eyes itself is your eye

And the ear that hears itself is near

'Cause it's your ear, oh oh

You've done the impossible now

Took yourself apart

You made yourself invulnerable

No one can break your heart

So you wear it out

And you wring it out

And you wear it out

And you break it yourself

Breaking your own, break it yourself

Breaking your own, break it yourself

Breaking your own

(Applause)

Thanks. (Applause) All right. It's kind of cool. Songwriters can sort of get away with murder. You can throw out crazy theories and not have to back it up with data or graphs or research. But, you know, I think reckless curiosity would be what the world needs now, just a little bit. (Applause) I'm going to finish up with a song of mine called "Weather Systems."

(Music)

Quiet

Quiet down, she said

Speak into the back of his head

On the edge of the bed, I can see your blood flow

I can see your

cells grow

Hold still awhile

Don't spill the wine

I can see it all from here

I can see

oh, I

I can see

weather systems

of the world

Weather systems

of the world

Some things you say

are not for sale

I would hold it where

our free agents of some substance are

scared

Hold still a while

Don't spill the wine

I can see it all from here

I can see

oh, I

I can see

weather systems of the world

Weather systems

of the world

Thanks.

(Applause)